


Bubblegum Kiss (Of Death)

by brokenhighways



Series: Bubblegum Kiss [1]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Abduction, Alternate Universe - Law Enforcement, Alternate Universe - Music, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crimes & Criminals, Eventual Happy Ending, Fights, Inspired by a Movie, Kidnapping, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 20:03:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4933468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokenhighways/pseuds/brokenhighways
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen Ackles is a former government operative who is slowly getting used to civilian life. When his ex-boyfriend, Jared Padalecki, is kidnapped, Jensen has to use every skill he learned in black ops to rescue him; even if it means that he finally has to face the past that he’s been trying so hard to forget.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> WRITTEN FOR SPN_CINEMA | BASED ON TAKEN (2008)
> 
> I’m 99.9% sure that this sucks, but this movie was kind of hard to adapt. It’s definitely more of a visual story than something easily put to words. Despite that, I hope at least on person likes it!

 

 

Jensen Ackles wouldn't say that he's led a particularly exciting life, but some might. At the age of eighteen, he enlisted and served his country for five years before being recruited by the CIA. After eventually working his way up the ranks, he was given his own covert task force and became the ultimate clean up guy. He was the one that hid the bodies, the one that was forced to mop up after other enforcement agencies who got to clock in and clock out. For Jensen and his team, their work wasn't a job, it was a _lifestyle._ Protect the country at all costs and all of that bullshit. At the time, it was an honour 'to serve and protect', but even he knows that life is all about smoke and mirrors.

The information regarding his own special taskforce is now _classified_. One day he was a highly decorated CIA agent and the next, he was put on early retirement. There was no genuine reason given, just that they 'no longer required his service'. He has his suspicions about the reason why; he wouldn't have been a very good agent if he didn't.

All he knows _for certain_ is that being bumped down to civilian status is nothing short of awful. Learning how to be around normal people is difficult, how to react to a strange look there, or a simple gesture like someone reaching for their pocket. Basic human interaction is tough now that he has to it for 'real'. It's funny how easy it was to pretend to be himself when he feels like Jensen Ackles is the real imaginary character here, made up of tiny fragments of someone else.

Jensen can admit that he hasn't dealt with it well. First, there was the drinking, though that stopped after he checked his former partner Chris Kane into rehab. There nightmares came after, followed by the refusal to talk about said nightmares, the latter only ceasing when his boyfriend, Jared, sort of left him, citing that he couldn't be with someone who refused to talk to him. That made Jensen realise that he probably wasn't benefiting from ignoring his therapist.

In the end, Jensen wasn't surprised that Jared handled the absences a lot better than he did Jensen's presence. It happened. They didn't see each other for months and then suddenly they were under each other's feet, managing different schedules, fighting over the remote and arguing over the dumbest shit.

The way Jensen sees it, they are just two monumentally different people.

Jared is the ultimate rich kid turned one-hit-wonder turned party hopper. His father is a European magnate who split up with Jared's mom when he was three. His sole hit single, 'Bubblegum Kiss', was all kinds of terrible, but it exploded in that ironic way that certain songs do. Despite Jared's questionable career choice, Jensen genuinely liked him. He might have even loved him, but now he's not sure what love is. He's not sure of anything anymore. Not when he's still trying to put himself back together, piece by piece. Technically they're on a 'break', but Jensen is ashamed to say that he's not really sure what that means either.

For the sake of his sanity, he's taken a low paying security job at a company owned by a friend of his and usually monitors the crowds at the arena. It's not a bad gig besides the screaming, and, at times, atrocious music. However, he can't deny the fact that he misses the thrill of a mission, the smooth glide of his Smith & Wesson under his fingers, the feeling he gets when he puts away another bad guy, that sense of contentment he gets when he sees something through. On the other hand, he doesn't miss the subterfuge and the outright lies and the way that life became so meaningless to him. He doesn't miss having to go out and kill someone just because someone else ordered him to.

He doesn't miss death.

Still, at this moment, he might as well have 'unfinished business' tattooed onto his forehead because it seems to be the case in all areas of his life.

Given his background, there's something odd about Jensen standing in front of a horde of screaming teenage girls every night. It seems kind of ridiculous that he could kill someone in under twelve seconds, but he's entrusted with the safety of kids too young to know the true dangers of this world. Though at the same time, that same expertise is the very reason why he's the perfect candidate for the job. Life is weird that way, he thinks.

On this particular day, once he's done at the arena, he stops off at one of those late night takeaway places he frequents and orders some Chinese. He doesn't realise he's ordered twice as much food as he needs until he sets it down on his kitchen table. He scoffs at himself; clearly he's still conditioned to pick up stuff for Jared too because this has been happening a lot lately. He even picked up Jared's stupid bubblegum flavoured toothpaste the last time he was at the grocery store. It's funny because he originally met Jared at some dive bar. Jared was the evening entertainment and they ended up sitting next to each other at the bar. Next thing Jensen knew, they were caught up in an on/off relationship.

Jensen wouldn't say that it was purely physical, though with him away so much it could be classed that way. Sometimes they talked. Usually about Jared and how he felt like a disappointment. Jensen doesn't think he's the best listener, but he tried. However, they usually stuck to booze and sex and forgetting the outside world.

It worked for them until it didn't anymore. Until it wasn't enough to hide Jensen's demons.

Jensen wanders out of his kitchen and eyes his living room warily. This apartment has been under his name for the last ten years but it's never felt like home. It's always had this sterile, strange feel about it. Almost like he could open a brochure and see it staring back at him, shiny and lifeless. He remembers the first time that he brought Jared back here, and the scrutiny he unwittingly opened himself up to.

 _"It must be hard," Jared said to him. "Leaving for so long and then coming back here."_ Jensen snorts at the mere memory. Hard is an understatement. At this point, being alone in the desert with no food or water would be more welcoming that this empty shell of an apartment. Alas, 'dealing' with everything means that he has to get used to civilian life.

There's a pile of mail waiting for him on his welcome mat. It's the usual: the odd bill, some junk mail, and bank statements for accounts he never uses. The only thing out of place is the shiny invitation to some kind of gala, which is clearly from Jared. He tosses it onto his coffee table once he goes back into the living room, and then checks his answering machine, skipping through the three from his mom and the cable guy who never shows up at a convenient time. The last one is what grabs his attention. There's a muffled static sound before a whisper fills the room.

It's Jared.

"Look, I can't talk for long and I know that we're like, not together, but I could use your expertise. I got this new driver but I don't think he is a driver. He kept making these conversations in some kind of European language. Maybe Russian? I don't know. My dad always wanted me to learn Russian and Polish but I was way more into music school. Anyway, yeah, so, this guy took me past the right exit and I have no idea where we're going. My dad is hosting some fancy gala - I sent you an invite a few days ago, did you get it? - and I'm supposed to be on my way to some hotel. The Metropolitan or something. I don't know. I'm kind of freaked out. I'm using this new app that Chad is developing to make this call. It's a voice recogn--you know what, I'll tell you later. I turned my GPS on, just in case. And uh, yeah. I don't know. Shit. I've got to go. Hopefully this all a misunderstanding. If not, I hope that you find me before they do anything to my face. That's the money-maker. And also, you'd miss me or something happened. So, yeah. Anyway. Bye!"

Jensen stares at the machine as it message ends. He snorts humourlessly; it figures that Jared's SOS phone call would be all sorts of ridiculous. Knowing Jared, it probably is a mix up but that there's no follow up call is a bit of a worry. He tries to call Jared back but it goes straight to voicemail.

His nerves are steel and his breathing is even. His eyes don't stray to his alcohol cabinet once. He doesn't tell himself not to freak out because he doesn't need to. He's calm. There's nothing to worry about. He's not going to blink and suddenly see--

His cell phone starts to ring abruptly and _that_ makes him jump, the noise alien and almost unrecognizable. He's used to getting messages but never being around to hear the calls. It stops ringing and starts up again before Jensen actually picks it up. He's not a huge talker, never has been. Phone calls have always been work to him - a necessary but highly irritating part of the job. So it's with great reluctance that he picks it up.

Maybe Jared is finally calling him back. "Hello?" He doesn't bother with pleasantries. That's just another bullshit part of life that people do just to fit in, and he's long past that stage.

The voice that greets him is familiar. "Jensen. This is Andreas Padalecki. I was wondering if Jared was there with you? He was supposed to show up tonight." Padalecki's voice is tight and Jensen can't help rolling his eyes. The two of them don't really get along for various reasons. He doesn't think Jensen's a good match for his son and Jensen hates that Jared spends most of his time trying to please his father. He can't ever believe that he was terrified of meeting the man, back when he and Jared were pretending to be a conventional couple. The fear has eased up within two minutes and turned into great annoyance.

"No, he's not here. I got a message from him earlier. He was supposed to be on his way to the gala." Jensen isn't really the kind of person that goes through ranging emotions. Either he's angry or he's not angry. That's pretty much it. He doesn't usually bother with worry. Just a calm detached feeling towards everything. Except for Jared because somehow, all it took was a fading popstar to crack through Jensen's emotional armour.

"He didn't show up," Padalecki says. His voice is low and missing its usual obnoxious tone. Jensen puts the phone on speaker and leans down to pull a small silver briefcase out from under his couch. He might be in early retirement but damned if he didn't take home a couple of mementos with him. "We had an argument this morning. It was about something stupid, nothing that would stop him from showing up but I thought that was why he didn't. But then I got this phone call from these people. They...knew stuff that they shouldn't. And said that if I didn't play ball, they'd take something of mine. Something that I wouldn't be able to buy back."

Concern threatens to flood Jensen's mind but he pushes it back as he sets up his tracking equipment. While he waits for it to load he grabs his laptop and starts running a program that will crack Jared's iCloud password. He doesn't have time to sit around _feeling_ anything.

This is now a job.

No, this is _Jared._

Fuck.

"What did these people sound like?" he asks after he manages to get his head back on track. His eyes stray to the cabinet but he looks away quickly.

Johnny Walker Blue won't help him through shit. He _knows_ that.

 _Stop,_ he warns himself. _Stop it right now. Focus._

"And what do they know?"

People like Padalecki don't end up with huge fortunes by accident. A quick check through the man's history was enough for Jensen to deduce that when he first hooked up with Jared. Back then it didn't matter because Jared was just a distraction from Jensen's real life. Jared was an escape. It wasn't until he became a civilian again that he realized that it was unfair to do that to Jared. It wasn't right for him to fuck Jared whenever he wanted to _forget_ and send him away when he needed to remember.

"They were Russian, I think," Padalecki stammers. "I can't say what they think they know on this line. It's not safe." Jensen nods to himself. The man isn't wrong there. There's a ping as the password crack software notifies him that it's correctly guessed Jared's password. He suppresses a groan when he sees that it's 'jensen23'.

Something thuds in his chest and he feels a strong wave of emotion. He pushes it down.

 _Focus_ , he tells himself.

"Do you have a phone number or did they call you on a private line?"

Padalecki clears his throat loudly. "Private. Look, I know you and I don't see eye to ey--"

"How much do they want from you?" Jensen interrupts.

_Can't let emotions get in the way. Focus. Focus on the facts. Get as much information as possible. The more we know, the quicker we can figure out what's going on._

Padalecki's voice trembles as he says, "Fifty million US dollars."

Jensen whistles. That's a lot of money. He's dealt with ransoms before and they're not always worth trying to outmanoeuvre. Sometimes it's easier to just to give in to demands, and take the bastards down two months later before closing the case file. Other times, it isn't so cut and dry. High ransoms are high risk. If they give these scumbags this much money, it's likely that they won't see Jared alive.

The chance of him being around to identify them is too high. One thing kidnappers always fail to do is make sure that they can't be _heard._

Padalecki swallows audibly. "T-there's a number that I'm supposed to call when I get the money together. I wondered if you might be able to trace it. I know that you and Jared have had your differences but right now, I can't trust anyone else."

Jensen bites down the urge to let Padalecki know that he'd do anything for Jared, regardless of any differences. There's only one person that needs to hear that and he's been _taken_.

"Hang up and text me the number," he says. "I'll see what I can do." He turns to look the laptop screen; the coordinates for Jared's phone are instantly recognizable.

It's in the fucking river.

 

 

Jared's led a very interesting life. He's privileged enough to have never wanted for anything. Growing up, he had several au pairs, he went to the best schools, including an award winning Music College. He's received more superficial shit than anyone needs in their lifetime. Despite his music career floundering at the moment and him being a colossal fuck up of a son, he doesn't have to worry about much. Not really.

There's his sort-of-boyfriend Jensen, but he gave that up when it became clear that he wasn't helping him. Jensen's served for his country and done a lot of good, while he pissed away a three million dollar record deal. All of the soul searching and pretending he does is nothing compared to the scars left by watching people die.

It could be worse.

Four words that are inked on him permanently just in case he forgets. In Latin, of course, because everything sounds more profound in dead languages.

However, Jared gets the feeling that he's finally reached _worse._

In all of his twenty seven years, he's never been kidnapped. There have been security breaches and severe scolding when he didn't show up on time, but typically he always travelled with a bodyguard. These days he prefers to go out without a shadow. It was a sore point with him and his father. His mom didn't care, she was too busy pretending that money was the key to happiness. She invited him to lunch once a week and ignored him the rest of the time. His dad, on the other hand, was interested in shaping Jared into some kind of mini-me. An heir for his business, a fucking picture perfect reflection in the mirror (and something that he had no intention of ever being). It's why his father kept such close tabs on him. He still had hope.

Unfortunately, Jared's never been able to convince his father that hope, like a lot of things, is futile and gives people nothing but endless disappointment.

Right now, Jared finds himself tied to an extremely uncomfortable chair. There are three of them, all talking in a language he doesn't understand. He isn't hurt, just confused. He's not scared either, but intrigued - for now at least. Jared's always theorized that the reason why celebrities often lead such crazy lifestyles is that there's a limit to how much money can do for someone. Buying every desire is just the beginning. Deciding what to do after is where the problem lies. So, they look for other highs - drugs, fast cars, danger. Jared gets it, though he never tells anyone this. It's easier to act like an entitled brat than show his real self. Chances are that most people don't care about the real. They like the illusion and escape from real life.

A phone rings, snapping him out of his reverie. It sounds loud and clear, echoing in the room. All Jared can see is a vast array of darkness because they put a blindfold on him as soon as they bundled him out of the car and wrestled his phone from his grasp. They didn't even have the decency to tell him that they were kidnapping him, one minute he was sitting at the back of his limousine and the next, they were dragging him bodily across asphalt and then a smoother surface, before they hauled him upwards and crammed his body onto the chair. He thought about asking where to send the receipt for his no doubt damaged Armani suit but thought against it.

Just as he begins to wonder if the call was ignored, Jared hears a thick accent saying, "Do you have the money?"

He almost laughs. If they're attempting to fleece his father, they just might be shit outta luck. His father is a hard man to bargain with - the older Jared gets, the more refusals he receives. Everyone else has to fight tooth and nail just to get his father to listen to them.

"Mr. Padalecki won't be paying you until you tell him what it is that you have on him."

Jensen's answering voice sends a euphoric wave of relief crashing through Jared. The stupid voice message was a joke at first. A silly way to convince Jensen to show up before he realised that something _really_ was off.

That Jensen is somehow involved makes him feel much better.

"We don't have to tell him anything," one of the kidnappers says. "We sell information to highest bidder. Or maybe you pay, huh?"

 _Yeah, that'll work,_ Jared thinks. _Idiot._

Jensen's raspy chuckle sounds in the room just as Jared starts trying to untie the plastic ties on his wrists. They're fucking painful as shit and completely unlike the kidnap scene he did in a rather awful B-movie a few years ago. (Jared's recognises that he's fulfilled pretty much every single rich kid cliché.)

"You know, I don't have that kind of money lying around, buddy. And while Mr. Padalecki does, he's not going to pay you a single cent because you might have his son but he's got me. And it may not seem like it now but I'm a resourceful man with a particular set of skills. It may not seem like it now but there are at least fifty ways that I can destroy your life and I only need one. Just one. By the time I'm done with you, there won't be an identifiable part of you left. Just dust."

It hits Jared then that Jensen doesn't know that there are three of them. Not that it makes a different when he's the one that's stuck with them. He isn't sure about Jensen refusal to pay but for now, he's going to trust that Jensen will get him out of the mess. It's all he can do.

There's an audible click as the call ends, followed by a silence so deafening that it almost hurts his ears. After a few minutes, there's some low mumbling, nothing that he can pick out. Heavy footsteps begin to approach him and Jared stills his hands. Not being able to see anything is disconcerting and his heart begins to pound rapidly. He hopes to God that they don't shoot him. Despite his joking around on the phone earlier, this isn't how he wants to go.

"Seems your father has underestimated how serious we are," a voice tells him. It's so close that he can feel warm breath on his skin. Attempts to move away from it are futile because he's trapped here, bound so tightly that he can't move. "I guess we must show him instead."

Despite the warning, the first blow catches him by surprise. Pain ricochets through him and his cry of anguish is muffled by the gag. The second blow hurts even more and he clenches his fists, eyes now stinging from tears with nowhere to go. It finally starts to sink in that he's _trapped,_ that he could die here.

Jared closes his eyes tightly and wills himself to think of something else.

 

 

"You know, I don't have that kind of money lying around, buddy. And while Mr Padalecki does, he's not going to pay you a single cent because you might have Jared but he's got me. And it may not seem like it now but I'm a resourceful man with a particular set of skills. There are at least fifty ways that I can fuck your life up and I only need one. Just one. By the time I'm done with you, there won't be an identifiable part of you left. Just dust."

Jensen hangs up abruptly, suddenly noticing the red light indicating that the call has successfully been tracked. He's at Padalecki's house, after a very reckless ride over there. Unsurprisingly the man has a team of 'experts' who managed to lose his son in the first place and a personal bodyguard named Chad whose mere presence screams 'incompetent'.

"I'm going to ask you one more time, Padalecki," he says slowly. "What do they have on you?" Jensen knows exactly how these things work. Refusing to give them money could...fuck, it could put Jared in danger but giving in easily is worse. It's definitely worse. Jensen ignores the voice in his head telling him that he'll regret it if it isn't. Someone else's family member is one thing. Jensen can care about someone else on a human level but this is Jared. This is someone he _knows._ There's no black here, and there's no white. Just a wide expanse of murky grey and he's torn between following protocol and following his gut.

Padalecki shares a look with Chad before taking a deep breath and sitting back down across from Jensen. The stained oak table is expensive looking and Jensen's stomach almost recoils at the decadence of it all. He doubts that any of the pricey items in this house were bought with a clean dollar bill.

"Before I started working in the shipping sector, I worked for a company that looked for oil in obscure places. You know? Offshore drilling and all of that. A partner of mine found a location and it was the perfect spot, right? It was a small village in a small country and the people would have been glad to have some money, right?"

Jensen frowns and looks up from his laptop when Padalecki pauses. "Just give me the facts. And stop saying 'right?' every five fucking seconds. It makes you sound like you're trying to cover something up. I'm not the enemy here."

Chad steps forward and interjects, "Hey, you better watch who you're talking to, man! I don't know what Jared ever saw in you." Jensen rolls his eyes, leans back and slams his laptop shut. He makes a deal of pulling everything out of electrical supplies and grabs his jacket.

He can find Jared himself if he has to.

"Jensen, wait. Please." Padalecki's face is pale and ashen, the alcohol tainted blush it usually has long gone. "Chad, sit down. Arguing isn't going to get Jared back. Like I was saying, we basically had to pay this man off, Victor Cromwell. He was an expat living a life of solitude. Or at least that's what we thought. It turned out that he knew about the oil supply and was running a low key drilling operation for the community. He refused to sell and for me, that was that. My partner took matters into his own hands."

Jensen doesn't waste any time in re-opening his laptop to search for the name. It's clear that Padalecki is the kind of man that says ten words when two will suffice and they really don't have all day. The search takes a few seconds.

**Victor Cromwell.**

**Former US NAVY Seal.**

**Age 45. Died in 1998.**

**Cause of death: self-inflicted gunshot wound.**

There's a lot more information but Jensen doesn't need to know more than what he's read. Irrelevant facts are a waste of time.

"So he killed this guy and framed it to look like suicide and now somebody knows and they're blackmailing you?" Jensen proclaims. "Where's your 'partner' now? And does he have a name or is he Casper the friendly ghost?"

Padalecki shakes his head despondently. "My partner is dead. He's not the one doing this." Jensen's hands still on his keyboard as a memory flits across his eyes.

He looks up at Padalecki and shakes his head. "Things aren't always as they seem." Padalecki stares at him imploringly, his large hand rubbing at his face almost as if he's trying to devise some kind of plan. Chad stares between the two of them for a brief moment before he places his hand on Padalecki's shoulder.

"Tell us his name." The tremble in Chad's voice seems to unlock something in Padalecki because he nods. A little broken movement, followed by a shudder. For a second Jensen allows himself to feel just a sliver of worry.

Jensen snaps out of his thoughts to see Chad watching him expectantly. He blinks and shakes his head, realising that he must have blanked out the name.

  
"Are you sure we shouldn't get the cops on this?" Chad asks. "You don't look so good and...we know that you're dealing with a lot and---" Jensen's hands are fisted in the collar of Chad's shirt before the sentence can be finished. Padalecki tries to hold him back but he shrugs the man off himself easily. Something falls. An expensive decoration or vase, Jensen doesn't know. Or care.

  
"You can call whoever you want but you're not getting rid of me that easily," he spits out. "I'm not going to let Jared down. Not again."

  
_Don't come back. Don't come back._

  
Chad struggles under his grip but manages to say, "Alright, man. I hear you loud and clear. Now get the fuck off me. And tell me how I can help."

 _Don't come back_. Jensen's grip falters as memories start to assault him faster than he can stop them.

  
He shakes Chad for good measure and then lets him go.

  
"You're good with computers, right? Use mine. Look up the name of the partner and see what comes up. I need to take a minute."

The fresh air is a welcome distraction, though that doesn't last long. From the accents, it sounds like some Russian crew are behind the kidnapping. From the tone, he can sense that they were just hired by somebody else. Jared's father has never been one of his favorite people and the performance he's putting on at the moment is just one reason why. Now, that's not to say that he's not genuinely concerned about Jared, but an innocent man doesn't call his abducted son's ex-boyfriend. An innocent man doesn't deliberately withhold information and an innocent man - two beeps sound on his phone - doesn't attempt to delete highly classified information.

He clicks out of the 'system breach' notification and opens up his contact list. He scrolls through it and ponders which enforcement agency he should try first. Technically Jensen was a CIA agent first, but his task force was more CIA-adjacent and ran joint stings with the ATF, DEA, FBI, Interpol and so on. Still, it doesn't mean he can be complacent here. He has to choose someone who won't go running to the authorities once they figure out that he's accessing classified information.

Someone who he can trust.

 

 

Jared's not sure how long it's been since they left. It seems like days but he knows better than anybody just how cruel time can be. Each second that he remains in this chair is marked by a fresh wave of pain and increasing fear. Being punched and kicked in the stomach repeatedly is no joke, and it's definitely not like it is in the movies, where the hero saves the day he can magically walk and talk with no issue. He's certain that at least one of his ribs are broken, and that's just the beginning. He can still hear the echo of the camera shutter and an amused voice telling him to ' _say cheese'_ as well as the punch in the mouth he received when he responded with ' _fuck you'._

 _Fuck this,_ he thinks. _Fuck all of this_.

 

The picture comes through when Jensen's in the middle of his phone call to Special Agent Katie Cassidy. Chad comes rushing aside, brandishing a cell phone and thrusts it into Jensen's free hand.

"I'm going to have to call you back," he tells Cassidy before ending the calls. He looks down at the picture, pointedly ignoring the fact that a very much bruised Jared sits in the middle, eyes concealed and with blood dripping from a welt on his cheek.

_I hope that you find me before they do anything to my face. That's the money-maker._

The teasing line from Jared's voicemail suddenly isn't very funny anymore. Jensen moves on from it quickly as he scans the picture for clues. The room that they have Jared in his dark and poorly lit except...for the window in the background.

Jensen hands the phone back to Chad. "It's a little odd isn't it? Where would you find a Victorian window?"

"Uh, someone's house?" Chad looks utterly confused but that isn't Jensen's focus right now. "You think they have Jared stashed in a house somewhere?"

Jensen nods. His stomach rumbles but he ignores that too. He looks upwards and exhales deeply, It's late. Or early. Dawn is approaching as the sky melts into a dusty grey from its silky, midnight black.

Wait.

He snatches the phone back from Chad, ignoring the other man's cry of surprise. The window in the corner shows _daylight._ Which isn't possible unless...

"This image has been doctored," he announces. "What the...why would they do that?"

"Misdirection?" Chad offers. "They could be moving him or trying to waste time?" Chad could be right, though any thorough kidnapper would have just made sure there wasn't a window in the picture at all. No, this is deliberate. It's intentional.

"What was Padalecki's reaction to the picture?" he asks, doing his best to keep his rising suspicion out of his tone. Chad gives him a strange look before glancing at the picture once again. He seems to be having some kind of internal struggle with himself and Jensen lets it play out. He pushes away the image of Jared's bruised face, tries to push the damn window to the forefront.

_Focus, focus, focus._

_I need a dr—no. No, I don't._

"He was more concerned with deleting a file on your computer," Chad says eventually. His face is ashen and his hands are trembling slightly and Jensen knows that he's clean at least. Padalecki, on the other hand? Not so much. "Which was a trap, right? That we fell for."

"What was the name that he looked up?" Jensen asks. At this point, the real name doesn't matter – that's why he didn't bother to stick around. In a world where aliases are a dime a dozen, real doesn't matter anymore.

"Andreas Padalecki." Chad's voice is barely whisper and something seems to break in Jensen because he feels an unwelcome lurch of nausea in his stomach. Surely Padalecki wouldn't sacrifice his own son to cover up some shady dealings from his past? Jensen laughs at his own thought. Of course he would. That's how men like him remain rich, while those around them flounder. Jensen's always found it suspicious that Padalecki was able to buy his son everything _but_ the career path he didn't agree with.

"What languages does Padalecki speak?" he asks Chad, who still looks rather shaken. "Russian, by any chance?" Chad nods but offers no words.

"Does he have any dealings with any Russian businessmen?"

Chad shrugs.

Before Jensen can tell him to pull it together the phone rings. Chad hands it to him silently as Jensen doesn't bother to look at the caller ID. He knows who it is.

"Yes?" Again, he doesn't bother with any niceties. What he really wants to say is ' _When I get a hold of you, I'm going to break every single bone in your body'_ but he manages to hold himself back.

A smooth chuckle rumbles down the line. "You Americans have such exquisite telephone manner, no?" Jensen clenches his fist. It's a different voice but the accent is the same. "I take it that you received our little surprise? Are you ready to negotiate now?"

"I want to hear from Jared."

They won't have killed him. Not without any money. Padalecki's possible involvement isn't even a factor because it wouldn't guarantee his son's safety. The miserable bastard isn't even outside, trying to figure out what the hell to do next.

"You have a very nice home, Mr Ackles," the voice says snidely. "It would be a shame if I felt you were holding things up unnecessarily. Persuade Mr Padalecki to pay the agreed price and you'll get Jared back. That's a fair deal, yes?"

"Go to hell," Jensen spits out. "If you break into my apartment, the money will be the least of your worries, hell, if you can get it, it may be your only hope."

The man chuckles. "Who said anything about breaking in?" The line cuts off and the phone beeps to notify Jensen of an incoming text message, which contains a single hyperlink. The link leads to a video feed that has a ten second countdown. It's a street view of his apartment. Jensen curses under his breath quietly. It might not have been _home_ but all of his possessions are there. Hell, his damn Chinese takeaway is just sitting on the counter unsuspectingly.

Ten...nine...

Four...three...

Zero.

There's a beat and then every single window is blown out, glass shattering everywhere as the alarms begin to go off. There doesn't appear to be a fire blazing inside, but he can't tell from this view. Whoever's behind this isn't playing around. Not only did they manage to snatch Jared so easily, they apparently knew that he would be dragged into this mess by Padalecki _beforehand._ One word springs to his mind and refuses to leave.

 _Misdirection_.

~

After packing up his equipment and liberating an automatic rifle from Chad's stash, Jensen checks into a nearby hotel. He pays for his room in cash and ignores the wary glance of the clerk before making his way to elevator. His room is on the seventh floor and thankfully easy to find. He grabs a quick shower and calls Katie back. She lets it ring out and he paces the room nervously until his cell rings.

"So, I looked into Padalecki and his company and I don't know what to tell you," Katie says when he answers the call. "They're losing money. Fast. And by the look of things, the board of directors are looking to vote him off."

"Doesn't he own controlling interest?"

Katie takes a while to answer but when she does her voice is firm and clear. "Nope. He owns about twenty five percent. It looks like an anonymous party has been buying his stake bit by bit. It's odd really, because if these figures are to be believed, he's giving away his stake for free."

"Is there any reason why he'd do that?"

"Not any legal ones that I can think of," Katie replies. "But it looks like he needs to put up fifty million dollars of his own money to keep his place on the board. They don’t think he's good for it."

_Fifty million US dollars._

Jensen is just about to respond when he hears it. It's faint, probably inaudible to an untrained ear but Jensen's not untrained. And he's not stupid.

"Look, Katie, it was nice talking to you, I'll call you later, okay? Don't forget to send me that book you recommended."

Katie catches on quickly and replies with, "Sure thing. I'll have it over to you ASAP." The second the call ends, Jensen places the phone onto the ground and stamps on it twice. He watches as the plastic splinters and kicks it across the room for good measure. His phone hasn't left his side since he got it so he reasons that it must have been bugged remotely. He sighs deeply and shakes his head. He could really do with Chris' help right about now. Or hell, _somebody._ Right now he feels lonely and helpless.

Lonely and helpless.

Jared's bruised face flashes before his eyes and he lets out a bitter chuckle. Here he is wallowing in self-pity when Jared's actually _lonely and helpless._

But—that doesn't matter right now. This is a job. Personal shit doesn't matter. Locate the target. Find the target. Acquire the target.

The three point plan.

Jensen frowns to himself he boots up his equipment, he tracked the first call but never got a chance to look at the location due to Padalecki and, to an extent, Chad's weird behaviour. The screen is where he left it when he logs onto the system – on the database. He looks at the search history and sure enough 'Andreas Padalecki' is there. He snorts to himself and is about to move on when he realises that there's _another name._

Padalecki searched for another name.

 

One of Jared's kidnappers takes pity on him. At least Jared thinks he does. The man removes the blindfold and gag and offers him a cup of lukewarm water. He has to help Jared drink it, but that's not too bad. Hell, he even provides Jared with a bucket for when the water goes right through him. Not exactly five-star service but compared to the ass-kicking he got before, this is practically heaven.

The man is sitting in a corner tapping at his phone silently when Jared decides to speak up.

"Hey...what's your name?" It's worth a try, he thinks. He might as well try to get some answers before they put a bullet in him like they've been threatening to do.

"You can call me Sergei," the man says. "Not that I should be talking to you." He sounds younger than the others, and more open to reason. Again, Jared resolves that it's worth a try to see what information he can get.

"Why blow up Jensen's apartment?" They made him listen to everything again. Jared doesn't understand _that_ either. "He has nothing to do with any of this."

"Your father called him in," Sergei replies blankly. Jared notes that his accent isn't as heavy as the person conducting the phone calls. "So he's involved."

Jared shifts slightly and regrets it immediately as a hot, white searing pain rips through his body. It takes him a few minutes to regain his breath and ability to speak.

"Okay, but blowing up his apartment won't get you your money? Nor will it get him to leave you alone. So why do it?"

"We just do what we're told."

Jared chuckles humourlessly. "So you have no fucking idea either. That's fucking peachy." He remains silent afterward, mind working furiously to make sense of it all. His father alerting Jensen in the first place is all off – they can't stand each other. And where's Chad in all of this? When he isn't fiddling with his toys, he's supposed to be the 'Head of Security'. Hell, he's supposed to vet Jared's drivers and--

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"The guy that hired you...did you ever see his face?" Jared asks abruptly. "Or did he hire you sight unseen."

"I didn't see his face," Sergei says. "But we've heard his voice. Should have known better than to work with a fucking Yank. I told the others but like always, they didn't listen to me."

Jared struggles to see the Sergei's face, but his painful attempts are all in vain. "What did you try to tell them?"

"This guy wants fifty million dollars and he's offering us a ten percent cut," Sergei says. "It already sounded too good to be true. And to make things worse, we're now facing the wrath of a former CIA Agent who's told us in no certain terms that he's going to kill us. I know when I've been played."

Jared stops to consider this. It makes sense in a way. Kidnap him, somehow get the money _and_ the added bonus of Jensen killing all co-conspirators. It's a smart plan in a ridiculously simplistic way.

"Why are you telling me this?" he asks. "What if I make it out of here and tell the police?"

Sergei's smile is evident in his voice. "If CIA doesn't kill me, someone one will. Unlike my brothers, I know when to give up."

_I know when to give up._

It triggers a memory and for a brief moment, Jared’s lost. He frowns to himself as he snaps out of it. He relaxes his shoulders, finally giving up on getting a better look at Sergei. "That guy on the phone? He's not CIA. He's worse. Like your brothers, he doesn't answer to anybody. He'll kill them and you...unless..." He trails off, deliberately waiting for Sergei to respond. If he's going to get cut loose from this damn chair, he's not taking any chances. He needs to convince Sergei that he has a chance of making it out alive.

"Unless...?" Sergei speaks up, interest clearly piqued. Jared would smile but that would probably hurt so he refrains.

"If you let me go, I'll tell Jensen not to kill you," he says. "Help me get out of here and I'll get the message to him, I promise."

If Jared were in Sergei's shoes, he's not sure what he would do. Would be betray his brothers for the sake of his own life or stand strong and (sort of) united with them until the end? It's a tough decision.

Unfortunately for him, Sergei picks the latter.

 

 

"I don't understand," Katie is saying when Jensen finally manages to call her back. At this time of the day, no stores are open, so he's having to make do with a cheap cell phone he bought from some random man in the hotel lobby. "You have the location of the callers, why go through the trouble of waiting around and trying to find out why Jared was kidnapped?"

It's easy for her to say that. FBI deal with pre-planned raids, planned arrests, plans, plans and more plans. This isn't a matter of seeking a warrant from the judge, it's a matter of life and death. The difference between the two isn't much.

"I needed to know who was behind it first," Jensen says. "There's one of me and more of them. Rushing in all guns and blazing would be pretty damn stupid. No, this way I can roughly estimate how many of them there are _and_ I can plan for any...interruptions."

Katie's hesitation is clear even before she says, "But all of that is contingent on you finding him before they move him. What makes you sure that you will?"

"I don't need to be sure, Katie," Jensen replies. "If I say I'm going to find him then I'm going to find him. Now do you have the information that I asked for?"

The second name Padalecki searched for was a Leonard Murray. Given that Chad's been hovering around like a bad smell, Jensen's willing to bet that it isn't a coincidence – there's got to be some relation there.

"Chad Michael Murray, son of Leonard Murray, who vanished mysteriously twenty years ago," Katie replies. "He's been presumed dead based on a letter they found. Some of his file is password protected so he might have been involved in some serious stuff. Chad lived with his mother in various apartments in the city until he graduated and went to MIT. She passed in 2007, and he's moved around since then. He took up his job with Padalecki in 2013, where he befriended Jared."

Jensen raises an eyebrow. "You got all of that from his file?" While obtaining that information isn't unusual it usually takes several months of recon and observation. Or rather it usually _took_ that long. Jensen wasn't exactly the one putting together personnel files.

Katie chuckles. "Nope. Most of what I have is from something called Facebook and interns who are desperate to impress."

Jensen rolls his eyes. Social media is one thing he's never been able to understand. It's even worse when he sees actual government officials using them, as if their infallible to the same surveillance they subject civilians to.

"So, I'm guessing that all of this is revenge for his father," he says. "Padalecki and Murray were business partners. Things went sour and Padalecki had to have him disappear. Chad's left in a broken home as a result. He finds out and plans revenge. All of that I get. What about the fifty million dollars?"

The demand for money isn't all that unusual, but given that Chad is talented enough to have hacked into various bank accounts, the end goal must be something else.

Something other than killing Jared because Jensen's refusing to let his mind go there.

"Padalecki needs that amount to keep his seat on the board," Katie points out. "And he's been selling his stake to a mysterious third party – if that person is Chad, then he needs that money to ensure that Padalecki doesn't just let his seat go and forfeit his stake of his own company."

Jensen pinches the bridge of his nose and leans back in his seat. In all honesty, Chad's motive means nothing. He's only interested in getting Jared back. He doesn't need to get sucked into figuring out the twist and turns, and trying to strategise.

It's pretty simple.

Go to the location. Get Jared.

It's that simple.

The loud blaring of an irate horn sounds behind him. He's standing outside a small restaurant. It’s one of those twenty-four hour places but he's not sure if he should go in.

The decision is made for him when the door swings open and a familiar face appears.

"Katie told me you’d probably show up." It's the first time he's actually seen Chris since the whole rehab debacle. His former co-worker and friend looks good. Gone are the dark circles under his eyes, and the full body tremble that seemed to follow him around like a bad smell. There's no whiff of alcohol either.

Despite that letting Chris come with isn't a good idea.

"Yeah, well, it's not every day I attempt to take out a bunch of Russian mobsters all by myself."

Chris snorts. "With what? I heard about your apartment. Who'd you piss off this time?"

Jensen's response is a dry chuckle. "Would you believe that someone _Jared_ knows orchestrated that? Apparently, I'm supposed to get angry enough to rush in guns blazing and kill all of the guys he hired."

"The ultimate clean-up job." Chris' voice sounds bitter enough for the both of them. "Are you going to do it?"

"They beat the shit out of Jared," Jensen replies slowly. "I'm not going to let that slide. And I'm not going to back down if any of them come at me. But you know as well as I do that there's always one."

"The one that's willing to sing like a fucking canary in return for his life," Chris recalls. They share a grim look before Jensen shrugs and rubs his hands together. He feels exposed, standing out here on the street in the early hours of the morning.

"I can't let Chad know that I'm onto him, so I have to go in as normal," he remarks. He pulls a piece of paper from his pocket. It's a crumpled printout he managed to get at the hotel, of the warehouse where Jared's most likely being held. "Are you in?"

Chris looks offended that Jensen's even dared to ask. "You're damn right, I'm in." The rest of what Jensen has to say is done through a questioning look, to which Chris responds with a slight nod.

He's saying ' _I'm okay'_ and Jensen hopes to hell that he's telling the truth.

 

 

"How certain are you that your guy is coming?" Sergei's talking to him again. Jared doesn't want to reply but the fear of being struck again forces him to. He can't deny that he's starting to become worried. Realistically, he knows that these things take time but every second he remains here, his fate becomes more and more doomed.

It's funny how he wasn't scared in the beginning but now it's taking everything he has in him not to burst into tears.

_Keep it together._

"I'm 100% certain," he tells Sergei, mustering as much confidence as he can. "He's not going to just leave me here. And he's not going to wait for you and your buddies to try and move me either."

There's a long pause, as Sergei weighs up his options, before Jared hears a flurry of movement. He feels a tug on his bound hands, followed by several more before they're suddenly let loose. He remains stationary for a few seconds before he pulls them towards his front, wincing as pain reverberates across his wrists.

"You promise that you'll tell your guy that I helped you?" Sergei has blue eyes. They're filled with worry. Part of Jared wants to tell him to go fuck himself but he gets it, that desperate need for approval. The way people do things that they want to just for the sake of family and solidarity. He glances down at Sergei's hands to check for bruises. Sergei catches him and a guilty expression appears on his face.

"They just wanted a way to get the money faster," he explains. "They...shouldn't have hit you like that. I'm sorry."

Jared snorts. "I don't need you to be sorry. I need you to help me out of this chair."

 

The warehouse is an hour away, though they make a quick stop at Chris' place to pick up some extra weaponry. Jensen's eyes almost pop out of their sockets when he sees just how well equipped Chris is.

"What?" Chris asks him with a teasing glint in his eye. "Haven't you seen The Walking Dead? I'm not taking any chances." It feels wrong to be cracking jokes and taking their time. The rational part of him knows that they need to be prepared but the part that he's been shoving down is starting to push through.

Today is one of those days when he just wants to look in a mirror and tell himself that it's okay to be human, to have fears.

It's okay to be afraid.

"I think we're safe from zombies, Chris," he says when he realises that he's been quiet for too long. "You just can't help being a rebel."

"Damn straight."

They enter through the side door.

Even though the floor plan is emblazoned on Jensen's brain, he's certain that instinct is the only navigation that he needs.

"There are two cars parked outside," Chris murmurs. "You think they've got a visitor?" Even from the audio from the phone calls, Jensen wasn't been able to determine just how many of them are here. Katie was still working on decrypting Chad's cell log when he last spoke to her. Jensen hasn't heard from Padalecki since he left the house but Katie managed to intercept a call about an emergency board meeting. For the time being, he's working on the assumption that Chad's there with him, making sure that the money exchanges hands.

"It's kind of crazy isn't it," Jensen says in a low voice as they navigate their way through the first corridor. It's dark, musty and there's a thick stench in the air that smells a lot like decomposition. "Your son's kidnapped and you call a meeting? I find it hard to believe that he doesn't have any money to put up. That he's not out there begging us to let him in. Hell, where the fuck is Jared's mom?"

Chris points two fingers forwards and Jensen steps out in front of him, body crouched low and his semi-automatic pistol held out away from his body.

"We've seen worse." Jensen silently concedes the point. They've seen much worse. He focuses on inching forwards, scanning the dark, narrow passageway for anything out of the ordinary.

"Clear," he calls out when he comes up empty. He turns to the right, quietly shifting an empty soda can with his foot. He notes that droplets that fall out of it. This might not be where they're holding Jared, but someone has definitely been here recently.

He pushes open the door leading to the staircase and makes his way up, with Chris close on his heels.

When Jensen steps out onto the second floor, he canvasses it quickly but sees nothing. He turns to look back at Chris.

"What do you say?" he asks softly. "Do we go looking for them or make them come to us?"

Chris grins at him darkly. "I think you know that answer to that." The manic look in his eye stops Jensen in his tracks and he lets his shoulders deflate a little. He might be able to just about control his own issues, but Chris is different. He's recovering. Partners or not, Jensen wouldn't be able to forgive himself if all of this triggered another setback.

"You know what, I think I left the grenades in the trunk," he says. "You mind going to get them? I'll wait here, see if I can figure out where they're most likely to be based on the floor plans."

Chris eyes him for a long moment. Jensen stares back and holds his gaze without ever faltering.

"Do anything stupid and I'll kick your fucking ass. You hear me?" Jensen responds to the growl with a barely there nod. It's better than outright lying because he doesn't hear anything but the loud lubb-dubb of his heartbeat. Chris leaves quietly, his footfalls barely sounding on the concrete steps. Jensen counts down from fifty in his head and reaches into his pocket. He pulls out M67 fragmentation grenade, waiting for a few seconds before he pulls the pin down. There's a click, followed by another small sound as the safety lever is pulled down and he tosses into the hallway.

 

Jared's got an arm slung over Sergei's shoulder when he hears it; a loud whumph sound in the distance. He knows without a doubt that Jensen's here. Sergei almost drops him but he catches himself just in time. They're almost by the stairwell, but Jared can practically feel the other man's hesitation.

"Go – tell them that I escaped or something," he says. The pain is dulled now, gone from being sharp and searing to a dull throb. He just needs to make it to wherever Jensen is and he'll be fine.

Sergei snorts. "Yeah, like they're going to believe that. They beat the shit out of you remember? Let's just keep going. There should be a back exit somewhere."

Jared's never understood that conversation until now. Seeing this in a movie is one thing – living through it? It's a whole new ball game.

And it's about to get much worse.

 

After the first man emerges through the smoke, Jensen steps forward. There's a beat and then they both raise their guns. At this distance, shots would be fatal. The other guy is obviously trained because he doesn't fire either. No, he's too busy staring at a point behind Jensen.

Jensen moves.

The man behind Jensen jerks back, and stands aside, as if he's bracing himself for a blow.

If someone gives a guy like Jensen an open opportunity like that, they should damn well expect him to take it. He uses his gun to knock the guy out cold, a quick, clean strike to the left side of guy's jaw, aiming at his right ear. He steps aside as the man falls to the ground messily. He looks back at the man who’s still hovering behind him.

"We can do this the hard way, or the easy way," he tells him. "It's your choice."

The man calls something out in Russian and fires a shot, forcing Jensen to duck so quickly that he feels a breeze ripple through his hair. He uses the momentum to propel himself forward and crashes into his opponent's legs, sending them both tumbling to the ground. Smoke from the grenade is still wafting through the air and he loses sight of his weapon. Not wanting to get caught out, he extricates himself and stands up. He sees the movement from the corner of his eye, watches slowly as his opponent’s arm begins an upward trajectory. He waits until the last moment before grabbing the arm and twisting it _hard_ until he hears a loud crack. The guy lets out a sharp cry of pain as he drops to the floor. Jensen wastes no time in kneeling behind him and wrapping his arm around his throat until he feels him lose consciousness.

"Guess you picked the hard way," he utters as he stands once again. He wipes his hands on his pants and kicks around aimlessly in an attempt to locate both weapons.

Adrenaline floods his system and he feels that tell tale tingle down his spine, his heart contracting rapidly and that subtle hint of euphoria.

"So, that's what coping looks like." The voice startles him and Jensen practically jumps when he turns to see Chris, who's propping up a barely conscious man. "I found this guy loitering on the staircase. I guess it's a good thing that you brought me here as back up."

"Now's not the time for this, Chris," Jensen spits out amidst his harsh breathing. “Hell, you can take a swing at me later for dragging you into this mess."

Chris chuckles softly. "I appreciate the concern, Jensen but this is nothing compared to what we've done. This is me helping my best friend get his boy back." He watches silently as Chris lets the goon fall to the ground unceremoniously.

_He's not my boy._

Jensen doesn't voice that. Instead his brushes himself off again and says, "Let's do this."

They run into another guy, who rounds the corner with his weapon raised, making it easy for Jensen to kick it out of his hand and knee the guy in his stomach. A second man emerges, much like earlier, and Chris is there to tackle him to the ground. A harsh jab to his stomach grabs Jensen's attention and he drops to the floor. He rolls away and stands up.

_Let him come to you. Don't get too cocky._

With a loud growl, the man lunges towards him and Jensen darts backwards, barely managing to avoid a flying fist. The second fist catches him on the nose and he stumbles as pain floods his system.

_Take it easy, let him think he has the upper hand._

Another jab catches his ribcage and he pushes away the painful tingle, focusing on redistributing his energy to his idle hands. The guy grins at him and moves forward. Jensen blocks the next punch and uses the momentum to push the guy away, ignoring his harsh outburst of:

" _Schas po ebalu poluchish, suka, blyad!_ " _Now I’ll fucking kill you bitch, motherfucker!_

Jensen understands enough basic Russian, and he rolls his eyes at the empty threat and waits until the guy lashes out once again and he grabs his arm with one hand and uses the other to deliver a hard blow to his midsection. He does this three times before he backs off. The other guy is bent over briefly before he straightens and stumbles towards Jensen.

"You're being used, you know that?" The guy speaks out, his accent thick and heavy. "If you kill us, you won't get justice for your friend." It's the man from the phone calls and Jensen feels his anger rise. He ought to shoot this guy in the face just for needlessly blowing up his apartment. Thankfully, his landlord confirmed that no one was hurt but the disregard of human life is what irritates Jensen the most.

"I don't give a fuck about justice," he spits out. "How much did Murray offer you, huh? You really didn't think it was weird that he gave you my name."

The guy shrugs. "Our instructions were to remove you from the situation."

"Funny. Those are also _my_ instructions. You ever heard of mutually assured destruction?"

"Spare me the high school history lesson," the man sneers. "You're not getting in the way of my ten million dollars." Jensen snorts.

Chad really picked a bunch of winners here.

"Good luck getting any of that money, pal," he says with a dark grin. "You know as well as I do that you're not going to see a single dime. And while I'd take the utmost pleasure in shooting you in the face, I don't plan on letting Chad get away with this. You're going to help me with that. Or I'll kill you and your buddies. The choice is yours."

For the first time, reality seems to dawn on the man and the stubborn expression falls from his face.

"All I want is a better life for my family an--" Jensen punches him the mouth before he can finish. The man staggers back, hand pressed against his mouth as he looks on in shock.

"That was for my apartment," Jensen says slowly as he advances forward. He grabs the guy's shoulder and aims a vicious jab at his midsection, letting the man fall to the floor with a loud, pained grunt. "And that? That was for Jared, you son of a bitch."

~

An hour later, he finds himself outside of Padalecki Enterprises, flanked by Andrei, whose desire for a better life seems to be genuine (if not a touch expensive) and the conscious members of his team. He put Chris in charge of locating Jared and getting him to a hospital once he reached the room that Jared was being held in and found that it was empty.

For his plan to work, he can't afford any distractions and seeing Jared in the flesh will probably take him to that place. That place where he goes into destruction mode and wipes out anyone who dares to get in his way.

If this civilian thing is going to work, he _can't_ be that guy anymore.

So he trusts Chris to take care of Jared and puts his plan into motion. He leaves his computer with Chris, who’s just as well equipped to use it as he is. It might look like a bulky, hideous briefcase but it’s actually a powerful machine.

"What exactly is the plan here?" One of Andrei's men speaks up – Vasily or something like that, Jensen was really paying attention during the introductions. He was too busy struggling against his innate desire to strangle all three of them. "If this goes wrong, we can't afford to end up in prison. B`lyad'!"

Jensen turns to them. "Chad, the guy who hired you, is trying to steal this company. All you have to do is pretend that you recorded all communication you had with him and that you're now working for me. He's a tech nerd – he's not going to have any answer to three weapons pointed in his face."

"Ty che, suka, o'khuel blya?" Vasily spits out. _Are you fucking crazy?_ "He could easily hire more men."

"True, but for that he would need time," Jensen replies. "He's been here for the past hour making sure Padalecki gets the fifty million. He's no mastermind, believe me. Now let's go."

Chad's actions aren't based on a grand plan, just the strong, burning sensation of revenge and that makes people do crazy things.

Jensen knows all about revenge.

Before he can get lost in his head again, they enter the building. He directs Andrei, Vasily and the other one to wait while he heads up to waiting area. The desk is unmanned and there's a solitary worker making their way to a door marked as 'Employees Only'. He watches intently as the worker enters a six digit code and walks through the sliding door.

"Chris, can you hear me?" Jensen murmurs, hoping that the plastic ear receiver Chris forced him to take is working. "Did you manage to hack the security cameras?"

There's a pause, a dull silence as he waits for an answer.

Chris' voice follows after a loud crackle. "Yeah. Looping the footage now. You should be good to go."

Jensen grunts his affirmation and beckons for Andrei and his men to follow him.

 

 

Jared's heard of Chris but he's never met him. He decides that he likes him, purely because the man doesn't drag him to the hospital. ' _I know a guy'_ is all he says when Jared asks him where they're going to get medical help.

His 'guy' turns out to be a former army medic called Danneel, who doesn't look too pleased to see Chris at her doorstep. She lets him and silently takes a look at Jared's injuries when Chris points at him. After an hour of constant stinging, burning and pain, she pats him on the back, gives him some strong painkillers and tells him that he'll live.

He must drift off right there on her couch because when his eyes next flutter open, Danneel and Chris are hunched over a weird looking computer and using a bunch of technical terms that make Jared's head even fuzzier than it was before.

"What's going on?" he asks, grimacing at the way the words slur. "Where's Jensen?"

Danneel and Chris share a look but don't answer him.

"The meeting is on the twelfth floor," Chris says. "From what I can see, there are two guards up there. You need to figure out a way past them."

"That's Tommy and Mike," Jared shares. "I can help distract them – do...do they know that I was taken?"

Danneel levels a stern glare at him. "You shouldn't be doing anything but resting."

"No, it's a good idea." Jensen's voice filters into the room, startling Jared thoroughly. "If they're in on Chad's plan, I should be able to take them out easily. Locate their cell numbers and have Jared call them." Jensen sounds so cold and detached that Jared almost shivers. He's not sure what went down with Jensen's job, or why it all ended so abruptly, but...he remembers the nightmares. The days where Jensen was practically catatonic, the tears, the anger and...he hopes that this doesn't break Jensen irreparably.

After a laborious conversation with Tom and Mike, who seem to none the wiser to Chad's scheming ways, Jared slips in and out of sleep.

"He's not concussed is he?" he hears Chris ask at one point. "If anything happens to him, Jensen will kick both of our asses." Danneel snorts but Jensen can't make out her response. Everything blurs again until he wakes up to Chad's voice.

"He's lying!" Chad is saying. "I'm just a security guard – what would I want with the company?"

Surprisingly, Jared hears his father respond first.

"You wanted what was rightfully yours and I was giving it to you. I was selling you my company bit by bit – to my own detriment."

Chad laughs bitterly. "Really? Why did the board want to vote you out then? And why were you willing to let them?"

"Oh, so you admit that I'm not lying then," Jensen interrupts, voice hard and icy. "You admit that you hired these men and kidnapped Jared Padalecki?"

"No---I, you know what, why are you even here, Jensen?" Chad snaps. "Shouldn't you be off somewhere babysitting at a Taylor Swift concert?"

"Really? Now you want to act like me being here wasn't part of the plan at all?" Jared notes the change in Jensen's voice. It's still devoid of emotion but that cold edge is gone. It's almost as if...

"He believes him," Chris utters in a low voice. "What the...where the hell are those files that Jensen had the FBI send over?" Danneel tuts and pushes him aside and taps away at the computer briefly.

"There's one here for a Leonard Murray and...what? What is it?" Jared turns his head lethargically and looks at Chris, whose face is now ashen and slack with shock.

 

Jensen's not going to lie – he was ninety percent sure that Chad was the bad guy here, but it became obvious two minutes after he walked into the meeting that Chad was just a pawn, being used by someone.

Someone who Jensen's very familiar with if the message that Chris just relayed to him is true.

"You just can't stay dead, can you, Leonard? Or should I say Mitch?" Jensen says. "I know you're in here somewhere. I'll rip out hair from every scalp in this room before I have to."

There's silence in the room as the board members trade confused looks and Padalecki dabs at his brow. A chair scrapes against the floor and man stands at the end of the table. He loosens his tie and tugs off his toupee. As far as disguises go, it's a pretty poor one.

"Mitch fucking Pileggi," Jensen snarls. "You're a fucking prick, you know that?"

Clearly, Leonard Murray either doesn’t exist or he’s long gone because Mitch Pileggi is a fucking crook.

He was a big time con-man, who seemed to get in bed with every global technology company in the last twenty years, buying up stock and pushing his products on them. He also sold software to governments, specifically tracking programs that were increasingly He was declared dead in 2008, supposedly killed during a botched CIA raid that Jensen's team was made aware of.

On his last mission, they were sent in to target the men that interrupted the raid and that's when Jensen saw Pileggi, lurking in the tornado of dust caused by the IED that went off in the distance. He told his superiors and they thanked him for his information and fired him two days later. Jensen, being the astute man he was, gathered as much information about Pileggi as he could, though in recent times he stopped obsessing over it. Not because he wanted to catch the guy any less, he just figured that a crook like Pileggi would be a victim of his own arrogance eventually.

Mitch raises his distinctive eyebrows and shrugs. "Hey. I'm not going to deny it. Just the same way that you can't deny that you've building a case against me since the day you were fired. That fancy little computer of yours? The first tech company I worked for built it. I saw that you were getting close and I put this plan in motion."

Jensen's mind flashes back to watching his apartment explode. Mitch smirks at him knowingly. Jensen’s lips thin out as he realises that whoever planted the bomb in his apartment, could have tampered with anything else.

"Chris? Leave the computer and get out of there. Now. There’s a bomb somewhere on it." There's no answer and Jensen swears under his breath.

"Tell him I say hello," Mitch says snidely. “I kept tabs on him too, but well, you know how futile that was. Man can’t even handle his drink.”

Jensen ignores Mitch, feeling a niggling worry when Chris doesn’t answer him.

"Danneel?"

"I'm on it, Jensen," she says. "Chris has gone into shock – I can't move him by myself." Her voice sounds tinny and small through the earpiece but he can just about make out what she's saying.

There's a crackle as she moves around but then Jensen hears Jared speak. "How long until it blows up?"

"I don't know," Jensen says. "I don't fucking know."

"Don't worry, I'll help get Chris out of here." Getting out isn't even the problem – getting _far away enough_ is. Not to mention people in the surrounding area.

Shit.

Chad runs a hand through his hair and looks at Mitch. "Call it off, man. This wasn't part of the plan. No one was supposed to _die._ You told me to get you the company and the money – I've done both."

Andreas almost chokes on his own tongue. “You son of a bitch – you said that Jared’s safety would be guaranteed if I voted your way on all future board issues.”

Jensen snorts quietly. It all makes sense. Mitch clearly had planned this to ensure that he basically had two votes – Padalecki and Leonard Murray’s.

"No, son, all you've done is hire incompetent Russians and _fail_ to do the most important part of your directive – eliminating Jensen Ackles!" Mitch hisses at Chad, ignoring Andreas’ outburst. "Or is there another Jensen Ackles that I don't know about who's lying six feet under somewhere? Is there a twin brother that I don--"

Before Mitch finishes speaking, a shot rings out and he crashes to the ground with a loud thump.

"Bullet to the head," Andrei says as he flips the safety of his pistol back on. "Effective and simple. Win-win for all of us. I suggest you check his jacket pocket for a detonator. My brothers and I are leaving."

Jensen can only watch as Andrei and his men leave, the shock of Mitch's abrupt death rendering him motionless.

It takes Jared's voice to snap him back to reality.

"We've just managed to make it past the front door," Jared says. "You think that'll be enough to keep the three of us in one piece at least?" There's a hint of a joke there but Jensen's not cruel or twisted enough to find it funny.

He rounds on Chad and snaps his fingers. He remembers Jared saying something about Chad being a gifted computer and analytical genius. Whether nor that extends to bombs is a question that’s about to be answer.

"Find the detonator – see what you can do," he orders. Chad grimaces but he doesn't argue and makes his way over to the now lifeless body. Jensen takes it as silent confirmation that the man was working under Pileggi. _Computer genius, my ass_ , he thinks. There was always something weird about Chad.

He turns to face Padalecki who's at the head of the table, trembling heavily, "You – stay here. The rest of you have two minutes to get the fuck out of here." There's an almost frenzied scramble as chair legs scrape against the ground. The man closest to Mitch looks shell shocked as he walks past Jensen; there’s blood dripping from his designer suit.

"Danneel is trying to clear the area just in case we can't shut this thing off," Jared informs him. Jensen notes the clarity of his voice and realises with a sickening lurch that he must be right by the computer.

"Jared, what the fuck are you doing?" he practically screams. "Get the fuck out of there." Jared doesn’t respond right away but Jensen can hear that he’s still there.

Padalecki stills and stands abruptly, forcing Jensen to push him back into his seat. Now's not the time for the man to pretend to care.

“Jared. Leave. _Now_.”

"If there's a chance that I can stop this thing from going off and killing hundreds of people, then I'm not going anywhere."

Jensen can hear the stubbornness in Jared’s voice, knows that there’s no point in arguing. Chad’s looking at him expectantly and Jensen rolls his eyes and takes out the earpiece.

“Here, take this,” he says tersely. “Tell Jared how to disconnect the fucking thing.”

He looks at Padalecki, whose face is still pale, fingers trembling as he stares at Chad.

“"There was no dead business partner was there?” Jensen asks bitterly. “And that story about Victor Cromwell was probably true, but I’m guessing that the names were aliases of some sort, right? You used me."

“You know as well as I do that Mitch had to be stopped,” Padalecki says, his voice surprisingly steady. “Isn’t that what you wanted all along?”

Jensen doesn’t bother to answer.

 

 

By some miracle, Chad comes through and tells Jared what he has to do to stop the computer from taking out the whole block and he fights through the pain and increasing throbbing in his head and manages to input the codes and cuts the coloured wires that Chad tells him to.

He must pass out soon after that because he wakes up in a hospital bed. The white of the interior is so bright that it almost hurts to look at it. He turns to see his dad dozing off in the chair by the bed. With a heavy sigh, he lies back and stares up at the ceiling. After this incident, he's not sure where he stands with his father. The fact that his father was somehow doing business with a maniac who was attempting to kill his ex-boyfriend makes him wary. His father's silence in the boardroom was telling. And given that his father had inexplicably called Jensen in the first place, Jared can't say for certain that his father wasn't in on the plan all along. No doubt, he'd made some kind of deal and that Mitch dude had called his bluff by kidnapping his son.

"You should be asleep, son," his father's deep timbre cuts into his thoughts and Jared turns once again. They've always had a contentious relationship but the distance between them feels like it's too wide to bridge, like they're strangers who just happen to share the same DNA.

"You knew what was going to happen didn't you?" he asks. "You knew that I was going to get kidnapped and you called Jensen because you knew about Mitch wanting to kill him. You also knew that if anyone could get you away from Mitch's blackmailing ways, it'd be Jensen."

His father doesn't answer, he just says, "Do you want me to go and get the doctor? We'll talk later, okay?"

Jared shakes his head. If he has his way they won't talk ever again.

~

Getting answers from Jensen proves to be even more difficult when Jared's eventually released from the hospital. There's no one to take him home, just a driver, paid for by his dad. He makes the journey in silence and thinks about everything that's happened in the past twenty four hours. He thinks about Sergei and wonders where he is. If his brothers ever found out about his 'betrayal' or if he just about managed to convince them that he moved Jared once he heard the gunshots.

He spends the next three weeks, huddled up in his bed, thinking, thinking, and thinking. Just...thinking. He wonders if this is how Jensen felt before each time he closed in on his self, if this is why Jensen seemed to find his way into a bottle – just to stop his mind from racing.

Chad stops by during week four, full of contrition and some answers. He stops short of admitting that Jared's father actually knew anything about him being kidnapped, but they both know the truth.

He finally sees Jensen three months after getting out of hospital. The bruises are faint purple spots on his skin, while the nightmares and memories and vivid, red and fresh.

Jared's having an unspectacular day when he hears a knock on the door. It's almost foreign sounding, because short of the house lady his dad pays to spy on him, he hasn't had a visitor since Chad.

How fucked up is that? Jared was kidnapped and the only person that gave a shit was the ex-boyfriend he walked out on?

It certainly puts his life into perspective.

He was this close to being Jared Padalecki, the one hit wonder, who'd have eventually had a sparsely attended memorial service.

This fucking close.

There's another knock on the door and Jared's drags himself off the couch and shuffles towards the door. He looks through the peephole first. He's not about to take any chances. Once he sees who it is, he steps back and opens the door.

Jensen's standing there, looking nervous for the first time since Jared met him.

"Hi," he says. "I'm looking for a place. Mine blew up."

Jared's not sure how to respond to that. So he ends up punching Jensen in the face.

 

 

Jensen's not ashamed to admit that he deserved that punch. Not showing up at Jared's place until now is a dick move, he knows that.

He's just not stupid enough to have let Jared see the mess he was in for the first month of that period.

And he's here now. That's what should matter.

"No, it isn't," Jared says when he puts his to him. "I shouldn't even have let you in."

Jensen tilts his head to the side. "Why did you? Besides the part where I was bleeding all over your welcome mat."

Jared looks at him and Jensen feels his heart falling when he sees the sadness there, and the loneliness reflected in his eyes. "You're the only person in my life who's ever had my back. That's why I let you in. My dad used me as a pawn to keep his billions. My mom? She still doesn't care. Chad...he wasn't my friend, not really? And you...us...that wasn't healthy. I let you in because I need you to dig me out of this pity party that I'm throwing myself."

"The first six months are the hardest," Jensen says. "Especially for someone who's never been trained for this kind of thing. It will get better. I promise. You...you surprised me back there. I mean, I've been beaten to a pulp and had to get out of tricky situations but you....you saved my friends. You did what Chris couldn't."

Jared fights off the urge to roll his eyes. Some big hero he is.

"All I did was type a few codes into a computer," he snarls. "I didn't do anything remarkable."

"You saved a lot of people," Jensen tells him. "That bomb was high-end, top of the range explosive – it could have wiped out ten blocks. It could have killed you but you were willing to put your life at risk – that takes courage. Guts. You scared the hell out of me but...I was fucking proud of you."

Jared shakes head in disbelief and Jensen struggles to find the words to console him. This isn't his area of expertise, isn't what he's used to but if he's going to forge a meaningful relationship with anyone, he has to get out of that 'Agent' mindset where everything is either a code or an order.

He needs to learn how to communicate.

"I did what anyone else would do," Jared replies. "Dressing it up to make me sound like some kind of hero is just _wrong._ You and Chris did this kind of thing every day. _"_

Jensen shifts on the leather (and uncomfortable) couch and exhales softly. Here goes nothing.

"Actually we didn't," he admits. "All enforcement agencies are trained to know the basics, but we're also trained to know when to get the fuck out of dodge. Sometimes we know that they're out there but we can't do anything because it's too late. Sometimes we prioritize certain areas. Sometimes our orders say that we can't do anything and we have no choice. Or we choose to listen, whatever. We send in the experts and hope for the best."

"So much for protecting and serving," Jared snorts. He doesn't look too surprised but Jensen's just glad that he's not asking questions yet. He really doesn't want to go there.

Not today.

Today is the first time since he got home that he's been able to look in the mirror and not hate what he sees.

The first time he hasn't looked down and seen blood on his hands.

"Oh, that part is true, it's just that really we're protecting and serving our own interests and not necessarily the peoples," Jensen responds. "But we can't really let anyone know that."

"It doesn't roll of the tongue as well as 'protect and serve'," Jared retorts, with a sardonic smile painted on his face.

Jensen chuckles softly. "No, it doesn’t."

"Not to change the subject or anything, but please tell me that you can tell me why I was kidnapped in the first place?" Jared says. "Because right now, I've got a lot of faded bruises and memories and not a whole lot of answers."

Even though he doesn't really want to talk about Jensen tells Jared what he knows, tells him all about his tug of war with Pileggi.

"Okay, but, how does this link to my dad?" Jared interjects.

Jensen explains. "Pileggi was trying to con the other partners of Padalecki Enterprises out of their stake of the company. He must have had some dirt on your father because he was selling his stock to Pileggi, bit by bit. They needed the fifty million dollars to ensure that your father wasn’t voted off the board.

"Huh. Why not trust him to give them the money later?" Jared asks with a puzzled look on his face. Jensen doesn't blame him. It took him a while to piece it all together and even then he wondered why all involved didn't just come up with an easier plan. “My dad could easily have found the money somewhere.”

"Well, your father is a lot of things, but he's not an idiot," Jensen replies. "Most companies have a rainy day fund, and that's what your dad was hoping would be given to him, in order to pay off the 'kidnappers' and I’m betting that Pileggi knew that.”

Jensen’s assuming that is the reason why Chad hired an outside party, to make it seem more authentic; it was the only way they were going to get any actual money from the company.

Jared raises an eyebrow. "Damn. Is my dad really that broke? Are things that bad that he needed to get into this mess?"

"No," Jensen answers honestly. "But the company is sinking and if he pretends to be in debt, no one will be looking to him to save it. It's a common business practice but unfortunately for Pileggi, the Russians he hired didn't take too kindly to being lied to."

"Speaking of the Russians," Jared pauses and eyes Jensen curiously. "I saw an interesting article in the paper the other day." Jensen doesn’t comment on the subject change, he’s actually grateful for the reprieve.

To answer Jared’s query, Jensen's old school. If people fuck with his friends and family, they fuck with _him_ and he doesn’t renege on his threats.

The Russians might be the reason why Pileggi is finally dead, but Jensen wasn’t about to let them walk away scot-free.

 _Don’t do the crime, if you can’t do the time._ That’s always been a personal motto of his.

If anything, they should be lucky that all they ended up with was jail time at a maximum security prison.

"I was going to kill them but, I figured that wouldn't be very civilized of me," he says. "I'm sure they're enjoying prison cuisine. I hear that they serve crepes now."

"What about the younger guy, Sergei, the one who helped me out?" Jared asks while biting at his lip. "Did you get him thrown in too?"

"Hell yeah, I did," Jensen remarks. "He untied you _after_ they beat the shit out of you and then used some kind of emotional bargaining to get you to spare his life? Guys like that are worse than brutes who beat the shit out of people. They grow up to be guys like Mitch Pileggi."

"Or my father," Jared points out. "God. I can't believe he had someone _kidnap_ me _!"_

Jensen cocks his head to the side, “Technically, his scumbag accomplice had you kidnapped. And he did call me when things got out of hand.”

“Either way, it’s going to take a hell of long time for me to forgive him,” Jared replies with a shrug

Jensen doesn't really know what to say to that. Jared was always saying that he definitely didn’t win the lottery when it came to parents, and Jensen can tell that Jared’s reached the point where he just has to accept it. Nothing he says will make the reality any better than what it is.

“Thank you,” Jared blurts out. “For coming to get me. I…you didn’t have to, so…thank you. And sorry for the…” he trails off and points and the blossoming bruise on Jensen’s face. It doesn’t hurt, not really.

There’s just a numb, faraway sensation.

“I should never have let you leave in the first place.”

The admission is a difficult one and Jensen swallows down the forming lump in his throat. They were never any good at deeply emotional conversations. He was too busy running away and Jared was too busy dealing with his own issues.

They’re both kind of fucked up, but Jensen doesn’t think that’s a valid reason to let what they have wither and die.

Jared leaving was the push he needed to finally sort his head out. He owes it to himself _and_ Jared to at least try.

Just one last time.

“And, if it’s alright with you, I don’t want to leave today,” he adds when Jared doesn’t say anything. It’s weird, they technically haven’t seen each other in months but so much has happened. Now they’re bonded together for life, relationship or not. Jared got involved in _his_ lifestyle, albeit by accident, and thanks to Andreas, Jensen’s seen firsthand that Jared’s father is all of the things that Jared says he is.

There are no more barriers to hide. Nothing more for him to protect Jared from.

It’s just _them_.

“I don’t want you to leave either.” Jared’s voice is low, soft, so unlike the loud, confident tone that Jensen’s used to.

He’s not sure how long they sit there, but when he awakes from sleep a few hours later and finds Jared curled up next to him, with his head on his shoulder he has the strongest sense that they’ll persevere.

They’ll make it through this and they’ll be okay.

_Together._

Fin.

* * *

 

[Link to LJ post](http://brokenhighways.livejournal.com/52675.html)

Extras: See next chapter. 

 

 


	2. Extras

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Stuff that didn’t make it into the main story.)

EXTRAS

#  **What Happened Before**

***set before the main story***

* * *

 

_The thick smell of smoke in the air has blood trickles down his face. It's not his blood. And the face in front of him isn't supposed to be there. That same face has been staring up at him from several classified case files. Yet here it is._

_Dust falls into his eyes and he's distracted by the stinging, desperately rubbing it so that he can see clearly. So that he can focus. When he finally looks up through watery eyes the face is gone._

_Gone._

_Two days later, they tell him that they no longer require his services._

~

_"I can't do this anymore, Jensen."_

_It's one of those days where everything seems so bleak and empty and all he wants is to forget. He wants to numb everything out. The feel of hot flame licking at his skin. Beads of sweat dropping into his eyes. Thick dust coating his throat. The rapid click click of gunfire. He wants to block it all out and the only way is to go back into the danger zone. The only way he can run away is to run back to what he's coming from. It's fucked up._

_It's fucked up and Jared shouldn't have to deal with it._

  
_"I can't just sit here and watch you do nothing, or refuse to talk." Jared sounds sad. Sad and disappointed, which is the furthest away from what he wants. He doesn't want this. To hurt Jared._

  
_"Then leave," he says blankly. "Just go. And don't come back."_

  
_It's one of those days._

  
_He can hear the cries of anguish. He can see the blood, smell it. Feel it on his skin._

  
_It's just...one of those days._

  
_Jared doesn't slam the door when he goes but Jensen wishes he did._

~

_I know when to give up_

_Jensen's drunk – again, and Jared's the one stuck cleaning his vomit stained clothes and making sure he showers._

_When he tells Jensen that he needs to pace himself, that's what he says._

_I know when to give up._

_Jared finds him passed out on his kitchen floor the next day._

_"I've done things that no one should be proud of," Jensen informs him, hours after Jared finally manages to get him showered, dressed and partially fed._

_Jared casts a wary glance Jensen's way; he's not sure if now is the best time to be talking about this._

_~_

_Jared's not really the wine and dine 'em kind of guy. He uses his fame to reel them in, and his money to keep them around. Until he gets bored that is, and tosses them out like they're yesterday's news._

_Although Jensen recognizes his song, he seems disinterested and bored of the parties, fame, money – all of it. He doesn't show up at any of Jared's parties. He cancels on drinks with Jared's friends. Jared even plays him the movie he featured in that one time and has to pause it when Jensen's eyes glaze over._

_"It's a crappy film anyway," he says, feeling a little embarrassed. That he's trying to impress Jensen at all is puzzling to him. Usually his partners actively want him to show off and shower them with gifts. Not that he minds at first – he's not one to shy away from attention. He's not used to the detached disinterest coming from Jensen. ._

_"It's not bad," Jensen tells him. "It's just completely unrealistic. If I wanted to kidnap someone, I wouldn’t do it like that. And if I was rescuing someone who's been kidnapped, there wouldn't be any slow motion parts where I magically dodge bullets."_

_"I guess it is...though isn't that the point of movies?" Jared knows that Jensen works for the government but he's sensing that the vague answer he got to his question runs a whole lot deeper than he thought it did._

_"I guess," Jensen concurs. "It's just kind of frustrating to watch, that's all."_

_~_

_Jared comes back._

_Jensen isn't expecting it – and truth be told, he'd rather Jared stay away. Chris is off at some rehabilitation centre trying to piece himself together again and Jensen's just realising that he's equally as fractured._

_This thing with Jared won't work._

_That doesn't stop him from letting him in. Or from letting Jared kiss him when he can't seem to speak._

_He can't say a word but sex is something he can do._

_One last time._

* * *

 

# What Happened Next

***set after the main story***

 

** **

 

**Four Months Later**

"You know, this green Armani sweater that I'm looking at would look seriously cute on you," Jared says, while in the middle of watching a camera feed showing Jensen navigating his father's private office. He may or may not also be browsing online shopping sites. Doing recon is pretty damn boring when you're stuck in a van outside watching everything through a screen.

"I'm trying to crack a safe," Jensen growls. "Be quiet."

They're in the middle of building up a case against him. Not because of Jared, but because of the woman that approached him few months ago. At the time, she'd simply looked up his name in the phonebook (which Jared was oddly listed in) and come to face off with him about some dodgy insurance policies she'd been sold by Padalecki Enterprises.

He took that information to Jensen and they both decided that they couldn't just sit on the fact that his father was a scumbag of the highest order. Since then they've been tracking his father's whereabouts, phone calls, internet habits – everything. Or well,  _Jensen_ has, while Jared pretends to know what all of those fancy words mean.

His career as a fading pop star is all but dead, which is good because his father thinks that preventing him from attending high profile events will have Jared at his feet, ready to forgive him.

"Hello...? Did you think of the passcode yet?" Jensen sounds impatient and Jared rolls his eyes. Despite the fact their investigation has been very low key, Jensen takes it extremely seriously. Jared wouldn't think anything of it, if Jensen didn't deny that he had some kind of personal investment in taking Jared's father down.

"You said four digits, right? Try 0617," Jared suggests. "My mom's birthday."

He watches as Jensen turns the dials on the safe and then punches the wall in frustration.

"Try  _my_ birthday. And stop punching things."

Jared's not sure how to feel when the safe door clicks open. He watches as Jensen rifles through the contents and practically falls out of his seat when Jensen's slams the safe door shut angrily.

"Well, we know one thing at least – your dad clearly has nothing incriminating in this safe. And that means that he keeps anything that could be used against him close to home."

"Is that supposed to be good news?" It's a genuine question. "And seriously, calm down. Remember what we talked about."

"How many times, Jared?" Jensen snaps. "I'm not emotionally attached to anything."

Jared rolls his eyes, he's become accustomed to Jensen's hard interior and given up on trying to crack it. Right now, he's just happy to slip through, inch by inch. Whether or not they're  _together_ or not is a mystery to him but he's just glad not to be alone anymore.

He's fortunate that somehow, in the middle of all the drama, they somehow found a way back to each to other.

"Nobody is saying that you are. Seriously,  _nobody_  is saying that. No one at all."

So maybe he wants more than casual sex and the occasional bout of snuggling they do when they accidentally fall asleep next to each other.

Jensen must hear the sharpness in Jared's tone because he turns and looks directly at the camera; there's a small smile on his face that causes Jared to frown.

"I might be a little bit attached to you?" he says. "I don't really know how to say that without sounding like an idiot, so I just...don't." The uncertainty in his voice makes Jared smile himself.

"Attached? Is that what we're calling it now?" He can't help teasing Jensen a little, laughing when he sees the man scowl through the camera screen.

"Don't make fun of me," Jensen retorts, though Jared can hear that he's not really upset.

"I'm just messing around with you," Jared tells him as he scans through the feeds of the other rooms on the floor that his Father's office is on. "There's a guy heading your way. I don't recognize him."

"Maybe I just don't find you funny," Jensen fires back as he turns the dial on the safe and does a quick sweep of the room.

"You're attached to me, you definitely find me funny," Jared replies. "That guy is right by the door – are you going to go out through the window?"

"I was just going to wing it," Jensen says with a small shrug. "Probably not the best idea, huh? And we might have to discuss the terms of this 'attached' thing later."

Jared laughs quietly. "Is this going to be one of those times where I have to give you a whole speech about what this entails  _and_ protect your delicate emotions at the same time? You should probably get ready to knock this guy out now."

Jared watches as the security guy glances down the hallway and then opens the door. From his view behind the screen, he sees Jensen slam the door right back into the security guard, knocking him out clean.

"This," Jensen sighs with a sweep of his arm toward the unconscious guard. "This is what ignorance does."

Suddenly Jared can't quite keep of the sarcastic, witty banter they've been engaging in. There are three words that he desperately wants to say and for some reason, his brain has picked now.

"I love you, you know that right?" he blurts out. "We might not be the most conventional couple but...I just do. And I'm really glad that you're still here."

Jensen turns to look at the camera again. Jared can't make out his facial expression but it doesn't really matter; what matters is the way he sounds. Call Jared a ridiculous, trained pop singer who can hear what the untrained ear does, but with a stoic person like Jensen, it comes in handy.

"Yeah. I know."

That's all he says, but Jared hears what he really means.

He hears it loud and clear.

"Just so you know," Jensen says via the comm as he makes his way out of the building. "If we're doing this whole relationship thing, I have one rule. I don't want to hear you play or sing 'Bubblegum Kiss' ever again."

Jared smiles to himself.

He's pretty sure that can live with that.


End file.
